


In the Midnight Hour

by ardentaislinn



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Papa Coulson, Team Bonding, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:10:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentaislinn/pseuds/ardentaislinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team are woken in the middle of the night for some non-optional bonding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Midnight Hour

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what this is. It is ridiculous and fluffy. I’m sorry? Confession: I have no idea what and In-N-Out is. We don’t have them here. I’m just going to go ahead and assume it is like a 24 hour McDonalds. Because it is convenient for me to believe that.
> 
> Thank you to fitzsimmonsfanfiction on tumblr for the prompt: Would you write something where the team go to a fast food restaurant, or maybe just drive through? Inspired by a couple of photos on fb/twitter of course ;)

Something, or _someone_ , was trying to drag him out of his sleep. Fitz reluctantly allowed himself to be woken. He was a SHIELD agent, after all, and emergencies did happen. But he didn’t have to _like_ it.

However, once he finally got his eyes open, Fitz saw Trip standing in the ray of soft light pouring in from the open door with a grin on his face and it occurred to Fitz that this was not, in fact, an emergency.

“What?” he grumbled.

“Get up. We’re getting burgers.”

Fitz squinted at Trip, wondering if he was actually still asleep and currently living a nightmare. “It’s the middle of the night,” he said incredulously. “And we’ve just had a massive battle where we almost died. We need _sleep_ , not burgers.”

Trip shrugged. “Coulson is insisting,” he said, as if that was the end of it. And, honestly, it was. Fitz, still grumbling, struggled to sit up.

“How did you draw the short straw of waking me up?” Fitz asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I volunteered. I’m well aware that I’m a ray of damn sunshine and no one can stay mad at me for long.” He grinned winningly. Fitz scoffed, but saw no point in denying it.

As Fitz stood up he wandered over to his dresser, looking for a shirt.

“Nope, no time for that,” said Trip, steering him towards the door.

“I’m in my pyjamas!” Fitz protested.

“Yup.” Trip kept chivvying him forward, unconcerned.

As soon as they stepped into the foyer, Fitz saw why Trip wouldn’t let him change. The whole team was there, yawning and bundled into their comfiest bedroom attire. There was a lot of flannel and ugly shirts (were those _flowers_ on Hunter’s top?), which made Fitz feel instantly better about the monkey pyjama bottoms he was wearing (a gift from Jemma) and the ratty old blueberries t-shirt he had thrown on earlier (a relic from his academy days – they had been a local band).

“Right!” said Coulson, stepping forward. He was in a flannel shirt, but it was casual street wear. It was weird to see Coulson out of the suit, as always. May was shooting him daggers, still managing to look lethal whilst wearing cupcake pyjamas.

“Team bonding time!” Coulson continued, upsettingly chipper for this hour of the morning. “We are all going to get burgers together and we are going to _like_ it.” He glared around at them all to prove his point. “We nearly lost this fight today. Some of us nearly died. All because a few of you couldn’t get your heads out of your asses and put your personal problems aside for five minutes.” Fitz hung his head, shamefaced. He was one of the ones Coulson was referring to. He’d refused to let Jemma help him until the situation was absolutely dire because he felt too awkward around her.

Coulson gestured to the waiting plane, and all of them tramped towards it, heads hung in shame.

They were all strapped in and on their way by the time Fitz realised he was seated across from Jemma. He didn’t know where to look. Was it worse if he avoided her gaze and ignored her? Or if he looked at her but couldn’t say anything because the rest of the team were in hearing distance? He eventually decided on catching her eye once and giving her a quick smile. She smiled back, seemingly gratified. Fitz relaxed slightly.

They shuddered to a halt a short time later. As the group traipsed out of the invisible plane, Fitz realised they had, er, _parked_ in the carpark of an In-N-Out burger place. Coulson walked inside and the rest followed silently. Once they had claimed the only long table in the empty restaurant, Coulson gathered them together once again.

“I need you to decide who you are angriest with right now and order them their meal. I’m trusting you.” With that strange final remark, Coulson sat at the table and pulled out his phone. He was probably happily discovering new sites for cat pictures. He still hadn’t let go of the grumpy cat meme.

Fitz glanced at Jemma hesitantly. She caught his eye, and gave him an apologetic smile. He shrugged in reply and the two of them made their way up to the counter. May was already there ordering something with extra pickles from the bored looking serving girl. Apparently groups of pyjama-clad strangers were the norm in her line of work.

Trip and Skye were in the far corner of the room. Skye was clearly annoyed, but Trip was just staring at her in fond amusement as she vented.

Fitz turned to Jemma. “I’m sorry about before. I should have just let you help,” he told her.

“Yes, you should have,” she said lightly, smiling to take the sting out of her words. “Next time, let me do my job, then fight with me after, OK?”

Fitz returned her smile. “There isn’t even anything to fight about. I was just being a tosser.”

“Oh,” she said, then paused. “Any…any particular reason?” she asked hesitantly, with a distinct touch of hope.

He held her gaze for a few long moments, so tempted to tell her. _I still love you and sometimes it hurts even though I know it’s not your fault_.

She was still gazing up at him, waiting for an answer.

“I…,” he began, but then someone bumped into him from behind and the moment was broken. He turned around to find Bobbi and Hunter glaring at each other, too distracted by the other to notice where they were going.

“If you had just let me do my _job_ Hunter…,” Bobbi was saying.

“If you didn’t insist on _lying to me_ ,” Hunter replied mockingly. “It’s hard to trust someone with your life if you can’t trust them with anything else.”

“I’m _not_ lying,” Bobbi defended herself. “Not this time,” she finished under her breath, though everyone could hear.

It was then that Mack chose to come up behind the two of them and clap them each on the shoulder.

“Play nice,” was all he said. It was enough to make the bickering couple stay silent, though they didn’t stop glaring at each other.

Soon enough, everyone had ordered and they were all sitting around the table munching away.

Jemma leaned over to Fitz, their shoulder’s brushing. “How’s the burger?” she asked softly.

“It’s not nearly as good as your prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella with a hint of homemade pesto aioli, but it’s exactly what I would have ordered.” Jemma beamed happily at him, and Fitz felt his heart somersault awkwardly in his chest.

Coulson stood up, grinning at them all with unfettered optimism.

“Now, see, you all could have used this opportunity to order something that you know the other person hates. You all know each other well enough to know each other’s culinary habits. Instead, you ordered something you knew the other person would like. You do like each other deep down. You care. So sort out your issues and work on your communication, so what happened today doesn’t happen again.”

He made to sit down, but paused thoughtfully. “I’m proud of you all,” he told them sincerely, looking around the table at each and every one of them. He sat and opened the burger that May had ordered for him.

Fitz looked around at his team mates and saw them doing the same. They all looked a little sheepish, a little humbled, but mostly happy to be there. Together.

Until Coulson said, “ _pickles!”_ at the top of his lungs in a scandalised voice. “Right after I gave that really great speech, too.” May just smirked and handed him another bag that she had been hiding under the table.

“Serves you right for waking me up,” was all she said.

They all laughed, even Coulson. And Fitz knew it was going to be alright.


End file.
